


Offering Help

by wizardofahz



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardofahz/pseuds/wizardofahz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria offers to help Trish in her quest to find out the truth about IGH and Jessica's powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offering Help

Trish does a double take when she sees a familiar face outside her apartment building.

Maria Hill is leaning casually against the facade, but her gaze is lasered in on Trish. It’s unsettling considering they don’t know each other, though they do know of each other. At least Trish is pretty sure Maria knows of her. She’s a popular talk show host after all, and after SHIELD’s collapse, Trish had requested and been declined an interview with Maria. Not that Trish imagines Maria remembers the names of everyone who’d requested an interview. There must’ve been hundreds if not thousands of them worldwide, and both request and declination had occurred between “their people” rather than themselves.

Trish can only guess at what Maria wants from her now. The whole situation reads like a power play, but she won’t be intimidated.

“I’m surprised you’re not already in my apartment,” says Trish in lieu of a greeting or introductions.

“I thought about it, but I figured you’ve had enough of that to last you a few lifetimes,” Maria responds.

It’s oddly considerate of her. Trish would’ve thought Maria’s desire for privacy would’ve outweighed her consideration of Trish’s. Then again, Maria is a spy. She blends in well, dressed casually in a pullover sweater and jeans, hair tied up in a ponytail, and looking altogether unassuming. People stroll by them without second thought, and if Trish hadn’t noticed Maria’s unsettlingly piercing gaze, she may have done the same.

Trish can’t think of anything better to say (where is her talk show persona now?), so she quips, “You rethinking saying ‘no’ to my interview request?”

Maria smiles, or at the very least, does something with her lips that resembles a smirk. Trish isn’t sure what to call it.

“I’m here to offer help.”

Trish raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I needed it.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation we should have elsewhere,” Maria says, and Trish knows “elsewhere” means her apartment. “If you want to.”

Trish nods and leads Maria into the building and up to her apartment. She mentally kicks herself when she spots an open IGH file strewn haphazardly next to a box on the kitchen counter. Normally she’s more careful with them just in case Jessica comes by, but this morning she’d been in a rush to get to work after she lost track of time reading through one while eating breakfast.

She casually makes her way toward the counter to hide them with her body, but Maria says, “There’s no need to hide them. They’re why I’m here.”

“There’s no way I’m dropping this,” Trish says, crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m not asking you to. I said I’m here to offer help, remember?” Maria responds, the very picture of calm.

She keeps her distance from Trish, doesn’t get up close and personal, doesn’t pace around looking at her things. Once again, it seems Maria’s trying to be considerate, trying not to do anything that could be construed as intimidation.

It’s still clear that Maria’s the one with the upper hand though, and Trish hates it.

“Why would you do that?” she asks suspiciously.

“You’re wandering into dangerous territory,” Maria says, gesturing at the files. “But you’re keeping it from Jessica because she doesn’t need something else to worry about so soon after Kilgrave and because you know she’d make you stop. Finding out what happened to her is not worth the sacrifice of making you see your mother. You disagree. You think she deserves to know.”

Jessica lost her anonymity after Kilgrave’s death, but the familiarity with which Maria mentions her is a bit much.

“Did you know what happened to her? About Kilgrave? Did you know before it hit the news?” Trish doesn’t bother keeping the accusatory tone out of her voice. She can’t help but think of how different things could’ve been for Jessica if they’d had help.

Ever unflappable, Maria simply responds, “It’s my job to know everything.”

“Yeah? How’d that work out for you at SHIELD?”

There’s a barely perceptible flicker that Trish would consider a win if it weren’t for the possibility that she imagined it.

Once again, Maria’s response is simple. “Touche.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you help?”

“Think about who I work with. The Stark Relief Foundation was founded because subtlety is not their strong suit. People can only be so grateful when their lives are saved if their homes, their cities, their entire support infrastructure are destroyed. I don’t think your very private friend would’ve appreciated that sort of help.”

Maria supposes she could’ve sent Natasha alone to help, but the mind control element was too reminiscent of the Red Room for her comfort.

Trish deflates. She doesn’t completely agree with Maria’s reasoning, but she can see her point.

“Why does any of this matter to you?” she asks, getting back to the point of Maria’s presence.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not offering help entirely out of the goodness of my heart,” Maria says, and it actually does make Trish feel better. In this situation, the self-serving aspect rings more true than altruism. “I need to know more about this supersoldier program, so do you. You don’t have to tell Jessica. You don’t have to see your mother.”

Trish scoffs at that. “Like you care about my mother.”

“I know that there’s no one on Earth that I would talk to my father again for.” That has Trish looking at Maria in a new light, and for the first time, Maria actually looks uncomfortable.

“I’ll give you time to think about it,” Maria says as she heads toward the door.

And Trish does.

…

Trish has barely set foot into her apartment before a hand clamps over her mouth. She immediately fights back and is rewarded with a grunt.

“Stop! Damn it, Trish! Stop, it’s me,” a familiar voice, Maria’s, whispers in her ear, and she stops struggling. “Don’t scream.”

Trish nods, and the hand is removed.

When Maria’s face comes into view, Trish doesn’t scream, which she considers an improvement over the last time she made such a promise, but she does gasp audibly.

She can’t help it. Half of Maria’s face is covered in blood, and she looks terrible.

Before she can express any concern, Maria says, “We need to go. Get whatever you need, and watch your step.”

Trish looks down to see a few unconscious or dead, she’s not entirely sure which and doesn’t care to know to be honest, IGH soldiers strewn across the disarray that is her apartment. She grabs a bag prepared for just such a situation, and they’re off.

Trish leads them to a hospital – she’s pretty sure Maria’s pupils are not supposed to look like that – and the fact that Maria lets her is telling. But once they get to the hospital, Maria redirects them to the parking garage.

“Tell her you’re a friend of Jessica’s,” Maria says as she slumps against a car.

Trish doesn’t get the chance to ask for clarification. Footsteps approach, stopping short as the woman catches sight of the two of them. Trish follows Maria’s instructions, tells her she’s Jessica’s friend, and the expression that forms on the other woman’s face screams, “Oh no, not another one.”

“Enhanced?” the woman asks, sounding resigned.

“No, but she did have her head smashed through a wall by some of them.”

“I’m fine,” Maria protests. She turns to Claire. “Tell her I’m fine.”

Claire eyes her dubiously then holds up a hand. “How many fingers?”

She’s surprised when Maria correctly declares that she’s holding up three fingers. She tries a few more times, and each time Maria says the right number.

But the brunette’s pupils tell another story. “Okay, I don’t know how you’re doing it, but I’m not going to say you’re fine.”

The brunette gives her a wry smile and says, “I’ve had my fair share of knocks about the head.”

Claire releases a resigned sigh. “So what’s the deal? You got somewhere to go? ‘Cause it sure as hell isn’t gonna be my place.”

Trish looks to Maria, and as always, she has a ready answer. “I’ve got a safe house.”

…

Maria and Trish get a day of peace in the safe house before the front door is burst off its hinges.

Jessica Jones storms into the living room where Maria and Trish are resting, grabs the former by her shirt, and slams her into a wall. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing with Trish?”

“Jess, no!” Trish says as she tries to pull Jessica away from Maria.

Maria doesn’t seem at all fazed by the mistreatment. She simply says, “Nat, don’t.”

Trish turns to see who Maria’s talking to and can’t help the shriek of surprise that escapes her as she finds herself face-to-face with the Black Widow.

“Holy crap,” Trish says once she catches her breath, one hand over her racing heart. “How long have you been here?”

“Since before you arrived,” Natasha responds easily. She looks at Maria. “Did you really think we wouldn’t notice if you disappeared?”

“Did anyone other than you?” Maria asks.

Natasha concedes her point with curt head tilt.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jessica cuts in looking back and forth between the two unfamiliar women.

“How’d you find us?” Trish asks instead of answering the question, and Jessica looks at her with incredulity.

“I’m a PI, remember?” She runs a hand through her hair and turns away slightly. “Fuck, Trish, you can’t just disappear like that.”

A small part of Trish finds that hypocritical, but she bats the thought away. “I’m sorry. We had to.”

“We?” Jessica questions.

The brunette mutters something in Russian to the Black Widow, and then the two of them are slipping away, probably giving them space or some crap like that.

Trish steels herself then says, “Remember when I said I may have found something about your powers?”


End file.
